Thursday, October 9, 2008

shopping with a boy is a *whole* different thing

Youngest finally got a little of my attention today.

Baby Lily is 10 days old now and because her daddy has been gone for work and Beautiful's roommate accidentally burned the porch off her house while she was in the hospital and then decided it was best if he moved out and Beautiful lives in a bit of a sketchy neighborhood and doesn't like to be there alone, I've been staying with her. A lot. Much to Youngest's dismay.

Today Youngest and I had a chance to go school shopping together.

Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that we're well into October and I'm a bit late for school shopping. You don't have to tell me because Youngest has already mentioned it. A lot.

Youngest is 13 now and has some definite ideas about his clothing. He's not too cool yet to be offended at the idea of shopping with his mother, but I have much less sway over what he wears than I used to.

If left entirely to his own, he would wear these. All. The. Time . . .

Shoes are important. Only board shoes or work boots are considered acceptable to the discerning 13 year old boy. Other shoes just aren't cool. Who can argue with that logic?

He's equally choosy about style and color combinations of socks and underwear. He has his reasons. And they're convincing. And I don't argue.

"I will not wear pre-distressed jeans." He informs me. Emphatically.

"Oh? Why is that?" I ask. Naively.

"They're for city boys." He answers. Emphatically.

"Ummmm . . . how do you mean?"

"City boys," he sighs with disgust, "they're not outside working on stuff that gets their jeans dirty and torn. They have to buy them that way. It's fake. I am not a city boy."

I see.

"What about this?" I ask, pointing out what I thought was a hip, non "city boy" jacket. Naively.

"No, Mom," he answers. Emphatically.

"Why not? Just try it on--humor me."

"Mom," he takes the lecturing tone, "it's too fashion-y. I wouldn't be seen in that. No."

All righty then.

He settled on 2 pair of pants and a shirt that fit his stringent criteria. Nobody will ever mistake my son for a city boy, for a boy concerned with fashion or for anything remotely metro.

As long as he's happy.

And not wearing the Carharts . . .

In other news--Lily finally met her daddy tonight. It was a sweet reunion and I left them alone very quickly after he arrived. No pictures of that event. It can wait : )

But these pictures--these are just too cute and must be shared immediately!